


Clueless

by clare009



Category: The Walking Dead
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 12:58:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clare009/pseuds/clare009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl has no idea why he wanted to punch the guy Carol was dancing with, but he did it, and now he has to suffer the consequences of pissing her off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clueless

She couldn't believe she could be this angry. He had no right, absolutely no right at all. 

Carol flew up the steps of the back porch and flung the screen door open so violently it shook on its hinges. The kitchen was dark. It was small and cramped, barely big enough to fit the wooden table, and her instincts were spot on, because Daryl was right there where she'd expected him to be, standing on the other side of the table with his back to her. His shoulders jumped when she slammed the door shut. 

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She bit the words out. A slice of light shining through the window from the porch fell over his hand where he gripped the sink; she could see his busted open knuckle. "What were you thinking?"

"What the hell were you thinking?" His tone made her flinch. "We don't even fucking know these people."

She could feel the blood in her face, it was so hot. "They seem nice, Daryl. If they were going to kill us, don't you think they would have done it by now? They threw us a damn party, what the hell else was I supposed to do? Sulk in the corner like you? We get to live, remember?"

He twisted to glare at her. "He had his fucking hands all over you."

"He asked me to dance. That was all." 

"You don't even know him, and you let him touch you like that!" He was yelling at her now. 

Well, she could yell, too. "So what if I did? I'm not a child. You don't get to tell me what to do!" She stepped around the table, hands on her hips and heart about to beat out of her chest. Daryl backed up against the sink. "You don't get to do that. Nobody does, you hear me? Not anymore."

She kept her eyes on his, and he stood his ground for a moment, then he looked away, his bravado deflating. "Fine. Whatever. Not like I give a shit."

Carol rolled her eyes. He'd even stuck his bottom lip out like a petulant child. "Good lord. You have no clue, do you? You don't even see it when it's right in front of you."

"The hell you talking about?"

"Me." She jabbed a finger at her chest. "I'm talking about me. You… you just punched a guy in the face for doing nothing more innocent than grabbing my hand and swinging me around to the music. In all of this, did you stop and think about why you did that?"

He glanced back up at her, and the confusion in his eyes made her want to scream. "I told you why. What the hell more do you want?"

She groaned. "Do I have to spell it out for you?" 

The impetus of her anger pushed her forward, and she stepped right into his space. He had nowhere else to go unless he moved her out of the way. She tilted her jaw as she looked up at him. He was breathing hard, his chest visibly rising up and down, and his lips parted as his eyes widened. It was do or die, really. She'd flirted with this idea of her and him for so long, now, that it had snowballed into something not even she could have predicted at the start. Problem was, he'd been oblivious to all of it. 

Putting her hand behind his head, she pulled him down to her. She paused when he was only a few inches away. Looking up into his eyes, she tried to find some flicker of comprehension. When his gaze darted down to her mouth, she gave a silent hallelujah and closed the gap between them. 

Carol put her mouth on his and clung to his lips. He stayed completely still. She held herself there, squeezing her eyes shut as time slipped by. Each moment he didn't respond made her anger and need bleed out, only to be replaced by uncertainty. She'd been so damn sure… But Daryl was unmoving, hardly even breathing, while she stupidly continued to kiss him. 

Her hand fell from his neck, and she finally pulled herself away. Carol staggered back, unable to look him in the eyes. She felt sick, and suddenly she couldn't take in enough air. The small room was suffocating. Whirling around, she reached for the door in two strides. 

"Wait." The word came out strangled when he spoke it.

She felt his hand heavy on her shoulder, and she froze with her hand on the doorknob. He turned her around with a nudge, and before she could even process a thought, he'd put his palms on either side of her face, and pressed his mouth to hers. 

The tears she'd been holding back gathered in her eyes, and she let out a whimper at the joy that blossomed through her. His kiss was so tentative, and she wanted to gather him to her and tell him everything was going to be okay, this was a good thing. She'd never hurt him. 

He released her from the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers as his thumbs caressed her cheeks. 

"I didn't…" he said. 

"I know." 

"But you did. You knew."

"I hoped." She allowed her smile to break free, and the when Daryl responded with one of him own, she kissed him again. 

This time, he wasn't shy about kissing her back, and soon it devolved into an expression of need, pure and simple. She'd waited so damn long for him to come around, that when his hand slid down to grope her breast, she let out a groan and nipped his bottom lip. Daryl became breathless, a whirlwind of hands and lips and tongue, as he attacked every inch of skin he could reach, and when he'd explored it all, he helped her yank her shirt up over her head to reach new territory.

He turned her around, and took her by surprise as he lifted her off the ground and set her on the table. Carol felt a wash of giddiness flow through her. 

"Fuck," he said against her neck as he pulled her bra down and was able to cup her breasts and squeeze them gently. "You feel so fucking good." 

She let out a whine as he flicked one of her nipples with the edge of his thumb. Her arms wrapped around him, and she pulled him flush against her, the ache inside her growing. She reached between them to press her hand against the bulge growing in his pants. 

Daryl responded with a strangled groan. "What… fuck… Carol."

He was breathless, and when he pulled back from her, she could see that his eyes were glassy, and sweat had broken out on his forehead. She squeezed the hardness beneath her palm. "I want you," she said. 

He shook his head. "I ain't… done this in a while. Been a long time. Real long time."

"I know. For me, too. And never with someone I… Someone like you." She dragged a finger along his jaw, catching the hair of his goatee. "We've wasted too much time, don't you think?"

Giving her a nod, he licked his lips, then pressed her gently back until she was lying on the table. He leaned over her and kissed her hard, and Carol wrapped her legs around him. 

"Daryl? Carol? Jesus, what the hell? Shit. Sorry… I'm sorry." Rick's voice echoed from the doorway and Carol froze. Daryl whirled around, and she could just see Rick ducking back out of the door and closing it shut. 

"Oh my god," she cried as her hands moved to cover her bared chest. 

"Bit late for that," Daryl said, looking down at her with a smirk. 

"Shut up! Find my shirt. Where the hell is my shirt?"

He scrambled around in the half-light of the kitchen until he came up with her shirt and flung it at her. "Here."

"Fuck," she said with a whine as she fixed her bra and tried to pull her shirt back into place. Her whole body shook with wound up tension, and she could see Daryl try to adjust himself as he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. 

There was a knock at the door this time, and they heard Rick cough, then call out. "Everyone respectable?"

Carol huffed, then slipped off the table and walked over to fling the door open. Rick's eyes darted from her to Daryl and back again. He rubbed the back of his neck, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. Michonne was leaning against the railing behind him.

"Can we come in?"

With a sigh, she nodded, and stepped aside so that Rick and Michonne could enter. Michonne gave her an arch look as she walked by. 

Rick lit a couple of the gas lamps on the counters, and the light flooded the small kitchen. Carol went to stand next to Daryl, who had hung his head like a schoolboy in trouble. 

Rick cleared his throat again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were… busy. But… really? The kitchen table?"

Carol flushed again. "It wasn't what it looked like."

"It wasn't?" Michonne said, her eyebrow shooting up.

"Well… no… it was. But we won't do it again. I promise. At least not in the kitchen."

Daryl nudged her in the ribs. "Will you shut up," he said under his breath.

"I mean, what if it had been Carl who walked in?" Rick continued. 

She let out a sigh. "We weren't thinking. Obviously."

Daryl mumbled, "Yeah."

"Okay then," Rick said with a nod. 

It was Michonne who was the first to chuckle and break out into a smile. "Honestly, it's okay, guys. No harm done, right?" She shot Rick a look, and he chuckled, too. "See, it's all good. You deserve some happiness. Both of you. There's nothing wrong with a little lovin'."

Carol could feel Daryl start to sink in on himself with shame. She quickly reached for his hand and squeezed a little too tightly, but he sidled more closely to her, and she allowed a smile in relief that he hadn't bolted for the hills yet. "Could we, um, change the subject?"

"Yeah, good idea." Rick kicked at the table leg with his boot. "I was coming to see if you were okay. Both of you--after what happened. I would have been sooner but I had to do some fast talking to keep things from escalating after what Daryl did."

"Basically Rick just kissed ass and groveled a whole lot. He told them that Daryl was the jealous type and Carol was his woman," Michonne added. 

Carol choked. "He said what?"

Daryl had the audacity to chuckle. "He wasn't lying, was he?"

Michonne pushed off from the counter. "You ready for an extra roomie?" She said to Rick. 

"What? Why?" Rick said. It was his turn to look confused. 

"Because I've gotta move my stuff out of Carol's room if Daryl's moving in. Didn't think you'd mind."

Rick snapped to attention. "I'll help you." He quickly followed Michonne out the kitchen.

Carol frowned. "What was that all about?"

"Don't know. Don't care." Daryl turned towards her and slipped his arm around her waist. He pulled her close and began to nuzzle at her neck. "How long do you think they'll be?"

"Not long enough."

"Figures," he said with a sigh as he released. her. "Better go and help them." He stopped just before he stepped through the door to the rest of the house, and chewed his lip. "This ain't going too fast for you?"

Carol shook her head. "What about you?"

He turned to inspect the doorframe, and it was a moment before he spoke. "I guess you were right, I had no damn clue. But this… this thing I feel for you… it ain't new. It's been there a while, now. I just didn't know what it was. Now I do." He turned to look at her. "That make sense?"

"Perfect sense." She said. It would be days before anything could wipe the smile off her face.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this ficlet came from Norman's comments about how he wants Daryl to be taken by surprise by love. He doesn't want Daryl to be the one to initiate it.


End file.
